The Descent
by starfissure
Summary: Did Lelouch really expect the world to unite into peace forever? He's only created a future of strife for his sister rather than one of happiness.
1. Stage 01

STAGE 1

"May we now present her Imperial Majesty Nunnally vi Brittannia, the one-hundredth Empress of the Holy Britannian Empire!"

A tall figure wrapped in a dark cloak and concealed by a heavy metal mask came forward bearing a golden crown. The centerpiece was a ring that hung the emblem of her country adorned with wings within. Connected by delicate chains were other pieces that cradled precious gems. With long, nimble fingers, the figure arranged the jewelry in the Empress' chestnut locks, and stepped back into his place by her side.

"All hail the Empress!" the court dutifully called.

Nunnally nodded her head, acknowledging the different world leaders and siblings that had come to attend. Though it looked to be a dainty tiara, the weight of the metal placed on her head was heavier than it looked. She could almost laugh at the irony of the little chains that might as well symbolically imprison her to her new position. Did the jeweler some sort of sadist? And what of the dress she was forced into? Above an already thick layer of frilly white undergarments was a corset pulled so tight she could barely breathe. And above that was a huge pink dress with a wide, heavy skirt. The sleeves puffed over her shoulders and the collar wrapped around her neck, buttoned all the way up. And finally after all of that, a velvet and fur robe was hung loosely around her shoulders, falling down her back, and spilling out of her wheelchair and onto the floor.

Everybody there was attending her official coronation at the Lithra palace in the California base. Pendragon was under major construction, and for the time being, the ruler of the largest nation in the world would remain there until she could be moved back to her ancestral home. For now, she sat in a specially crafted wheelchair, made to look like a throne, that was placed on top of a dais at the upper end of a sweeping ballroom. The high walls boasted huge paintings of her various family members (those that hadn't spent their rule conquering other nations) and some of the more recent ones were painted by her late brother Clovis. Above them were a few tiny windows that looked like black squares against the golden walls. Finally, an enormous chandelier hung form the very center of the ceiling, it's one million tiny diamonds sparkling in the golden light it washed over the room. The perfect setting for a dance.

The string quartet in the corner of the ballroom began their waltz, and the men extended their hands to the beautiful ladies in their free-swinging dresses and they began to twirl to the music. The melody rose and fell like the currents of the wind, taking the dancers along with it like leaves. Nunnally meanwhile couldn't even stand up. She remained seated, trying to be as stoic and still as the figure beside her to hide her envy.

Some important figures took the opportunity to greet and congratulate the young Empress. First approached the Representative of the United States of Japan, Kaguya Sumeragi.

She stepped up the carpeted steps, her long pink kimono trailing behind her. Nunnally noticed that the girl seemed to be trapped under just as many layers as she was, her petite figure almost completely hidden under a cocoon of embroidered silks. But the little Japanese girl moved as if she was as light as air, graceful in all her movements.

"Empress," Kaguya bowed deep.

"Chairwoman Sumeragi," Nunnally acknowledged courteously.

Kaguya rose with a polite smile on her face.

"May I offer my congratulations on your successful ascension to the throne of Brittannia. May relations between Brittannia and the United States of Japan remain open and peaceful."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Nannully replied sweetly, as she should, but she was not without conviction. "We've sacrificed so much to get to this point," Nunnally added solemnly. She would keep the world as peaceful for _them._

Kaguya nodded in understanding. "We will work to make sure their sacrifices were not in vain." She sighed, closing her eyes and allowing the two girls a moment of silence for those departed. But after, she was back to her usual bubbly self.

"Now, on a lighter note," Kaguya chirped brightly, "have you prepared marriage arrangements yet?"

Nunnally was completely stunned. "U-uh!" she stammered like a fool, her royal etiquette completely thrown out the window. She'd never thought of marriage before. Kaguya laughed, her voice like little bells.

"I'll take that as a no! But don't fret, your Majesty, I may have a suggestion if you'll allow me. I heard Tatsunori Osakabe's son survived persecution and has taken over as head of his family. He is looking for a bride; perhaps a union between a Japanese noble and a Brittanian will strengthen ties and develop more peace."

Kaguya had her there, and she was at a loss of what to say. Thankfully, her older sister stepped in from her right.

"We shall certainly consider it. For now though, Her Majesty must focus on stabilizing global relations between the world and Brittania in other ways," she explained. Nunnally shot a thankful look Cornelia's way.

Cornelia wore a feminine suit rather than a dress. It was velvety red with warm gold embroidery adorning the cuffs, shoulders, and collar. A white sash crossed over her chest and from it hung a multitude of medals of honor (though none she earned conquering other nations). Nunnally wondered why Cornelia wasn't chosen to be the next ruler. Her older sister was an experienced warrior and charismatic leader. She was older, wiser, stronger and more beautiful than Nannully thought she herself would ever be.

She didn't have time to dwell too much on this as her present company demanded her attention. Kaguya's smile lit right up.

"Wonderful! I shall let Osakabe-san know right away!" Her green eyes flicked away from Nunnally, over to her left side where the dark figure stood. "And perhaps more arrangements can be made." And with that she twirled away, dark straight hair, ribbons, and dress flowing about behind her like fans.

Nunnally leaned back a little in her chair, a tad overwhelmed.

"This might get out of hand," she confided quietly to her sister.

"Should it get to that point I will take care of it," Cornelia promised. Nunnally huffed.

"Some Empress I am. I can't even handle my own issues."

"The wisest rulers accept help when they need it."

But Nunnally didn't want anyone's help. Not anymore. Almost her entire life people had been bending over backwards to help the blind, crippled girl. People to push her chair, get her dressed, bathe her, and tuck her in like she was some kind of child. She thought that advocating for the role of Viceroy would be the start of her independence. Now she was Empress, and she still needed other people to take care of her.

Not to mention the Knight of Zero, the dark figure standing beside her on her left, still as a golem, and as ever vigilant. It was this masked man that had taken the duty of being Nunnally's shadow. He was the only one that pushed her chair, accompanied her everywhere, and acted as her bodyguard among many other things. But wasn't he the leader of the Black Knights? Did he pity her so much that he was forced to stay shackled to her rather than lead them to protect the world?

By that point, Nunnally had slipped into a deep gloom of depression, and she sagged in her chair.

"The Empress is tired," a mechanical voice startled her. It was an unsettling sound; like a chorus of voices, children and men alike captured in a computer and blended together. It warbled and clipped in unexpected places, and it was monotonous to the point of being impossible to hear any inflections. Surprised, she turned to the voice's owner, the Knight of Zero, who had slipped behind her and took a hold of the handles on her wheelchair.

"She cannot leave now. We don't want to offend our guests," Cornelia snapped, obviously still bitter towards the symbol of Japan.

"The Empress is tired," Zero repeated.

Cornelia was annoyed now and opened her mouth to protest. But someone beat her to it.

"Oh, you're leaving?"

They all turned to see a thin young man had approached the throne. He stood on the steps with long, unsure legs. Under neatly combed hair was a rather handsome face; long and gentle with soft blue eyes under brows so thin it was difficult to see them. He wore a simple black suit, nothing more and nothing less. In this way, he stood out against the brightly colored fabrics the more noble guests were wrapped in.

"No, she's not," Cornelia answered the man.

"Oh! Than if I may speak with Her Majesty, I have a few propositions-" The stranger reached behind him into a shoulder bag and grabbed a few papers. As he pulled them out, they got caught and spilled out onto the floor. The pages shot off into different directions as they came down. "Oh no!" The man cried. He dropped to the floor and grabbed at as many sheets as he could. Nunnally waited, feeling awkward just watching and wishing she could get up and help him. In his haste he barely grabbed up half of the documents and began to shuffle through them. "Now, if you just wait a moment…Oh," He began searching around him again.

"Perhaps you should step back and collect yourself before speaking to Her Majesty," Cornelia impatiently suggested.

The man looked up, surprised and upset.

"Please! I just-" he stopped short of that sentence and closed his eyes, seeming to gather his thoughts. He let out a breath and began much more calmly. "Your Majesty, my name is Brother Colin Griggs. I'm a representative of the Sect of the Attuned. I was hoping to speak with you about establishing a proper church here in the California Base."

"The Empress is currently only dealing with external affairs for the time being," Cornelia answered.

Nunnally bristled at being spoken for. "Actually," she announced, "I'd like to hear more of this."

"Your Majesty?" Cornelia was surprised.

"If we cannot exercise inclusion within our own borders how can we do so outside of them?" Nannully was very proud of herself at that moment. It was quite the smart thing to say. Then again, she had a lot of smart ideas, just nobody wanted to listen to them. She looked back at Brother Collin. "Proceed."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. The Sect of the Attuned studies the inner workings of the human mind to unlock spirituality for the gods. Our practices include meditation and cognitive therapy as well as brain research. We believe that in understanding ourselves we can better understand others."

Nunnally thought deeply about what he said. It was a strange approach. Much of Britannia's people believed in the Abrahamic God. Others believed in a set of strict philosophies. Others still worshiped the collective spirits of the Earth. Each focused on outward actions and prayer than self-introspection. But maybe this was a breath of fresh air this country needed.

"Permission granted. We will set up an appointment to speak with the city council to further discuss the matter," she decided.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, I-" Brother Colin began to climb up the stairs towards her but the Knight of Zero promptly stepped in front of her, blocking the Brother's view of her.

"It's best if you keep your distance, Brother," Cornelia advised. Smiling sheepishly, Brother Colin obliged. "My apologies. I'm not used to court etiquette. I've lived in an enclave my entire life," he joked at the Empress once he had backed down the stairs enough for the knight to withdraw back behind her. Nunnally smiled at the quip.

"It's quite alright, Brother. I hope the rest of your night fairs well."

"And yours, Your Majesty. But I see that you must rest now, I shall be off." And Brother Colin trotted away after an awkward, poorly executed bow in which he tripped over his own feet. Nunnally laughed at this and he was quick to retreat away into the crowd, his face red.

"Perhaps he should meditate to improve his coordination," Cornelia joked quietly. Nunnally had to stifle her laugh. "Big sister!" she admonished, but Cornelia was proud of her little jab.

Nunnally felt a jolt in her chair and gripped the sides hard when she felt it begin to move.

"So your really set on this? Very well," Cornelia sighed. "Honored guests! Thank you all for attending our beloved Empress' coronation. Unfortunately, she must retire early."

Kaguya stepped forward. "Then let us wish her a well deserved good night."

"Here, here!" the crowd cheered.

Nunnally smiled gratefully on the outside, happy that no one was offended. But she knew she was far from deserving of anything good.

She let herself be wheeled out through the back door, leaving Cornelia to attend to her guests. She was actually glad to be away from the party, guests be damned. She was still exhausted and depressed and in need of another good, long cry. Typical selfish Nunnally, she thought. Always thinking of herself before others. Did that sound like a worthy ruler?

She was stopped and realized that they had arrived at her chambers much earlier than she had expected. The Knight of Zero reached over and pressed a button, automatically swinging open the double doors to allow them entrance, and they stepped inside.

It was large, of course, fitting for an Empress of Britannia. The round room housed the usual bedroom requirements; a bed, a vanity, a desk, and a door leading to a private restroom and spa. The desk was mahogany with intricate swirls and designs carved into the legs. There were two little drawers stationed above the surface, where a few stacks of official documents sat, waiting for her attention. The vanity was treated with the same craftsmanship as the desk. Of course it had a round mirror and drawers, and it was occupied with dozens of bottles neatly arranged on it. There were powders and inks, perfumes and scrubs, and rouges and bronzes. Dozens of different brushes for application were neatly lined up in front of it all ascending and descending in size. Lastly, there was the bed. It was wide, a king-sized no doubt, and tall. The four posts reached up almost to the ceiling and supported the canopy. A thick, velvety curtain encased the whole thing and it was left open for her return. Just another thing to imprison her.

Suddenly, the nagging feeling of being trapped was overwhelming to Nunnally. The huge dress she was shoved in was too hot. Her skin was sweaty, her hair was pulled to tight, Her feet were pinched in those fancy shoes.

So she tossed off her fur cape and began to undo the buttons of the collar on her dress. But they were fastened very tightly. She began to panic when they wouldn't come loose, imagining the collar getting tighter and tighter and restricting her airway, scratching the sensitive skin of her neck. She started to tug instead, hoping that would work. When it didn't, she pulled even harder, and then harder still. She was left rocking back and forth violently in her chair, tugging until she was free of her collar with a shower of shiny black buttons. But her skin was still on fire, and she grabbed at her sleeves, clawing at the puffy fabric until they too had been ripped off. Finally she ripped at the the remainder of the bodice and with enough raw emotional strength, tore it off with a desperate cry. She was left there, panting from exertion and panic and anger, her pink dress torn to shreds down to her waist to reveal her slip and corset.

All the while Zero had been watching her episode quietly in front of her, never turning his gaze away. Nunnally now challenged him with a defiant glare, willing herself not to be embarrassed by her lapse in composure and brief foray into insanity.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, but in that metal mask Nunnally only saw herself. Her hair was a mess, frizzy and half pulled out of its updo. Her arms were streaked with red scratch marks. There were huge bags under her violet eyes, which were were littered with tiny little red veins; blood-shot. She looked like a mess.

She was a mess.

She couldn't look at herself anymore. She broke their gaze and sniffed miserably, tears springing into her eyes. God, she really was a child. And what people would want a child to lead them? Nobody, by her thinking. If they all saw her now, maybe they wouldn't have so much faith in her. Maybe they wouldn't treat her with so much respect, like she was some sort of war hero. Well she certainly wasn't. All she did was sit in her chair and watch the battle rage on around her.

That's why she did just that as Zero quietly walked over and grabbed the shredded pieces of fabric off the carpet. He placed those in the waste bin next to the desk before pulling off the bottom half of the dress; what was left of it. Then he gently lifted each of her legs, which were nothing but pale twigs wrapped in sickly blue veins, and pulled off her shoes, until she was in nothing but her slip and corset.

Now she was slightly embarrassed, and made to cover herself by crossing her arms over her chest. Zero either didn't pick up on it or didn't care. He approached her and slipped his gloved hands under her knees and around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. She was deposited lightly on her vanity stool and Zero paced behind her, kneeling down. She felt the strings of her corset become loosened and untangled as Zero's nimble fingers pulled every knot from the top to the bottom of her corset, down her spine. Soon, she was free of that as well.

She was finally picked up again and tucked in under the heavy covers of her bed. She saw Zero on the other side reach to draw the curtains down, to imprison her in darkness for the rest of the night.

"Wait," she called, and he paused. And she paused, again staring at her reflection in the mask.

"I… I think I might hate you," she whispered into the silence between them.

Zero didn't say or do anything for a short moment. He just stared at her, maybe thinking of a way to respond. Was he astonished? Sad? Angry? Or did he just not care?

Nunnally wouldn't know. He just drew the curtains and she was plunged into pitch black once again. She could hear his soft steps on the carpet, the gentle whoosh of the metal doors opening and closing, and then nothing.

* * *

"Status report," Cornelia ordered as she marched into the communications room.

The party had lasted well past midnight. Cornelia wasn't one for formal events. She was much more at home on the battlefield than in the ballroom; there at least, nothing was kept hidden. People spoke through their actions not their words. But diplomacy? Everybody had some sort of secret agenda that they hid behind fake politeness. It was tiring trying to figure out what their intentions were. In war, you already knew what they were; to kill you.

"All points of entry are clear. No breaches detected. All guests are cleared off the perimeter. The Empress is located in her chambers. All guards are in position. Ready to execute nightly lock down," an officer dutifully announced.

"Proceed. Give me the global status,"

"I think I can help with that." Cornelia turned at the new voice to see her older brother Schneizel approaching in a confident swagger, a clipboard in his hand. "Would you like to hear it?" he inquired, a smug smile on his face.

"Please," Cornelia ground out. He may have been loyal to Zero and the Empress, but that didn't mean he was any less aggravating. With a chuckle, he began to read from the papers he had.

"There have been a few skirmishes with Europan officials as our forces withdraw from their territory. Seems there still a little bitter about their defeat at our hands. Same goes with the Middle Eastern Federation." Cornelia pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Typical. They think because we are withdrawing we are weakened."

"Are you going to send them a warning, dear sister?"

"No. We must continue to completely withdraw. We don't need to justify their ire any longer." A headache began to form and she rubbed her temples. _We have to maintain the balance._ She thought.

"It's not that easy, is it?" Schneizel grabbed the railing of the balcony they were on, looking over the dozens of subordinates at their computers below. "It's quite the naive little wish, world peace."

"It's only naive if you are too lazy to put in the effort to make it happen," Cornelia countered.

"Or too intelligent to know that it's impossible. But everything a challenge for you isn't it dear sister? There's no mountain you cannot climb if you put your all into it, correct?"

"Don't patronize me," she snapped. "After all, look where you are. It seems your intelligence didn't get you to the throne like you wanted."

"Perhaps not," He answered wistfully. Cornelia watched her brother for a bit, studying the way he looked over the intelligence team fondly.

"Had things been different…" she began,

"Things are the way they are, and that will never change," he looked up at her. "I didn't take you for the nostalgic type, little sister."

She started at that. She guessed she was. Maybe it was her clinging to the past that drove her to do everything she ever did these past years. It was the death of Clovis that urged her to request the position of Viceroy of Area Eleven, to avenge his death as well as the deaths of her other two siblings. She saw their blood soaked on the hands of every Eleven she saw. And later, little Euphy's blood was on their hands as well. So she made it her job to serve them righteous justice, and suppress them back under rightful Britannian control. They would regret their treacherous ways. But, it didn't turn out that way of course. But she still clung to their memories anyways, and rather than correct the past, she looked to changing the future. For Euphy.

Maybe why Schneizel became the way he was, did all of the horrible things he did, was because of what he just said. He accepted the world the way it was, rather than trying to change it for the better. Cornelia knew he had good intentions; he did after all offer peace treaties to the colonies they conquered, and like Euphemia, he loved all people, and fought against racism. But he never went beyond that. He tried to remedy the symptoms, not the disease.

That's where is enemy succeeded. But at a high cost.

Cornelia took a moment to remember all that had lost their lives in the bloody years that had just passed, taking a special moment to conjure a painting Clovis did of her and her baby sister playing as children.

"Yes, perhaps I am the nostalgic type," Cornelia admitted to her brother. She turned away from him. "Good work. I will return at 06:00 hours for another report," she announced to the communications room.

"Yes, princess!" they all responded at once, saluting her as she left.

The heavy shadow of exhaustion was weighing on her, pulling down her eyelids. She needed to rest, but her work was never done. So maybe she was nostalgic. That was fine. She would use the love of her last living sister and the memories of the siblings that had passed to drive her to maintain the peace they sacrificed so much for. No matter what, she would preserve the world exactly the way Euphemia wanted it. Exactly the way Nunnally wants it.

Exactly the way Lelouch wanted it.

* * *

"Was your trip successful, Brother Colin?" Father Abel asked when his young apprentice walked through the door.

"As far as I know," the fifteen year old responded. Father Abel nodded his head.

"Good, good," he said. Colin finished hanging up his coat on the coat hanger. They were in the office of Father Abel, the leader of their little church located in a run down building in one of the few ghettos in the California Base. There were a few other churches spread around the area, in other ghettos as well in other cities. But they hadn't spread so far as to have stations in other countries. But with the recent news, it looked like they might be heading towards a brighter future.

"You don't seem all that excited, Father," Colin observed sarcastically.

"We must not let lose control of our minds by getting our hopes up. This is good news indeed, but there is still much work to be done, and we must focus." Colin sat himself down in the metal folding chair in front of the father's desk.

"Sure, but if it was so important, why send me?" Colin asked.

"Because you're easy on the eyes," Father Abel explained, his wrinkled golden eyes twinkling. He reached his blocky fingers into his bowl of assorted sweets and fished out a butterscotch candy. "Most of us here in the Sect of the Attuned are old men. We're also scientists, so we're already not very good looking to begin with!" he laughed.

"It's not physical beauty or strength but the power of the mind that matters," Colin lazily recited.

"And your very right about that. We know that more than anybody else." He began to slowly, almost tenderly unwrap the candy in his hands, watching the process with an intense interest. "And it's because of this that we know the powers of other people's minds." He looked back up to Colin. "And their weaknesses."

TBC


	2. Stage 02

STAGE 02

Nunnally breathed in deep, letting in wafts of clean, fresh air perfumed with the scent of flowers into her being. The sun beamed down upon her undisturbed in a cloudless sky as she was wheeled through the gardens for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The plants around her boasted a myriad of beautiful blossoms in various pastel purples, pinks and blues. Even the ferns were just as light and delicate as the flowers. There were dozens of bees zooming about from plant to plant, none bothering the lone pair traversing their sacred domain.

Nunnally expected her first day as empress to be a whirlwind of documents and meetings and signings, a day she wasn't prepared for with the sparse amount of sleep she received. But so far, it had been quite the opposite. She awoke bright and early to her lady's maids throwing open the velvet curtains of her windows, then doing the same to the ones around her bed. They were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed until they saw the state their little doll was in. Nunnally had caught a glance in the mirror before they rushed her in into her bath and it was not a becoming sight; her eyes were still puffy and red from crying her eyes out the night before, just after she was left alone, and below them hung hideous purple bags. Her hair was in complete disarray, sticking up in all ends and some was stuck in her mouth. She looked thin, weak, and sickly.

Of course the maids tried to remedy that. They dumped her in the huge tub in the bath chamber; it was built into the floor and large to account for her disability, and they poured in this chemical that was made to smell just like wisterias. Her skin was scrubbed raw with poofs and her hair harshly detangled with an assortment of dangerous looking combs. Then she was pulled out, dried off, and slathered with lotions and perfumes, and then whisked away back into her room, where a dress was already waiting for her. Today's cage did not look as binding and uncomfortable as the one she wore the night before. The maids giggled over the periwinkle fabric, fawning over the shining buttons that climbed all the way to the base of her neck, the short sleeves, the tiny waist-line, the flaring skirt that dropped to her mid-thigh, and lastly, and most particularly, the cream-colored bow tied around her neck to top it all off. Lastly her hair was pulled up and bound in low bun. Simple, but restricting all the same. Once they were done dressing her up, her shadow arrived, ready to resume his duties.

The maids scuttled off after lining up and bowing to her, as is custom, completely silent as they passed the two people practically facing off. Nunnally didn't want to look at him, not after what had happened last night. She had learned over the course of the last few years that emotions are a weakness, and showing them could put a person in an unwanted position. The people that win, and more importantly, the ones that stay on top, are the ones that don't let their guards down. And maybe it wasn't a big deal because she only broke down in front of one person, in the privacy of her own room, but among all of her many expanding enemies, Nunnally was sure the man in front of her was her biggest one. Not because he was a threat to her safety, but to her peace of mind.

While the maids' presence went unknown by them, theirs did not go unknown by the maids, who picked up on the tension between the two like a shark would to blood in the water, and were already gossiping about it as soon as they were out of earshot, leaving the Knight of Zero and the Empress alone.

A part of Nunnally wished she wasn't paralyzed so she could lift herself from her damn chair and rip off that infernal mask. It was torture staring into that black mirror, looking for some recognizable human feature on him, only to see herself staring back, confused and pathetic. Another part of her still feared what might lay under it.

For the time being, she didn't have to look at it. She was just supposed to be content observing the flowers around her like a good little girl.

She was wheeled under an arch covered in hanging lavender, and the spicy smell wafted down upon them. She was spared for the time being from the beating rays of the sun as she was washed in blue shadow. She reached up and gently caressed one of the flowers lit up from the inside like a Japanese lantern by the sun.

Suddenly she was stopped. The figure behind her stepped away from his place and rounded her chair to kneel gently in front of her. He was mostly bathed in shadow, but spots of light filtering through the covered archway spattered him with gold, setting alight the deep purples and reds of his uniform, and tuning the mirror of his mask as bright as the sun, so she could not see herself in it's depths any longer. So she placed her focus below it. Held delicately in his extended hand was a pure white gardenia framed by it's dark leaves. From the center, the petals curved outward like a whirlpool, slowly opening up to the sky. Nunnally was sure this was the only white flower amongst all of the many different colored ones in all the imperial gardens. She must have missed these. She continued to observe the flower in the knight of Zero's hand, waiting kindly and patiently, until she reached out and captured it in her own grasp. She twirled it gently between her fingers, still observing the bloom, and the knight did not move from his spot knelt before her.

"Is this to be my punishment then?" Nunnally pondered aloud to her companion. "A fairytale dream?"

Nunnally would never know what Zero's response would have been because he never got the chance. Cornelia appeared and approached them quickly, causing Zero to immediately stand. Nunnally ignored the strange looks she was giving them, but as always, the princess put her inner feelings on the back-burner and went straight to business.

"Your Majesty." Cornelia bowed. "Your presence is needed in the audience chamber."

"I will be right there," Nunnally answered. She was thankful to be out of this maze of flowers, she was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

As they walked, Cornelia informed her of the situation.

"We were in the process of scheduling audiences for the next few seasons when they showed up."

"Who?" she asked as they crossed into the cool shade of the building.

"Priests from that religion, 'the Sect of the Attuned' I believe. Five barged into my office demanding an audience with you immediately. Of course I told them it was impossible; I set up their audience for later next month and not with you, but with myself. I told them the empress had no time for trifles. But they refused to leave until they got what they wanted." Her brow furrowed and she clenched a piece of paper in her hands. "I don't like it when the common-folk make demands."

"They have a right to have their voices to be heard," Nunnnally countered. "That is what the audience forum allows them to do."

"But don't forget, we are the authority, and we cannot afford to let others dictate our decisions so easily. Allowing these radicals to decide when you will see them is a show of weakness."

"I don't think I would call it weakness, I think it's rather more like a compromise, and what is wrong with that?"

"It's leniency. And we cannot afford to harbor it unless you want to be overthrown."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

"Nunnally!" Cornelia admonished sharply, catching the young girl off guard. It would seem that even Zero too had paused. Cornelia looked like she was about to deal out a long winded lecture. She had that same face she always wore when she was scolding Euphemia; her brows furrowed and frown deep, but her eyes soft with worry and care. It was never an expression she showed on the battlefield or in the court room, or even among her subordinates, but one she only reserved for younger siblings. But she surprised her and sighed, guiding them the rest of the way to the audience chamber in silence. If Nunnally had to pick, she would rather have been lectured than forced into silence like a child ordered to think about her behavior in the corner.

The young empress had to steel her face into an amiable smile as Cornelia approached and opened the double doors to the audience chamber, announcing loudly and clearly her presence, along with her many titles.

The audience chamber was constructed so that the empress would speak with representatives outside of the throne room, in a neutral area in which both parties would be seen as equal. As such, it was a simple room, long and thin, a line of tall windows stretched across the western wall, letting bright midday light crash inside. There were no portraits displaying the elite in their fanciest attire, nor golden moldings or velvet curtains. It was perfectly simple. Lastly, there was a lone desk at the back of the room for the empress to sit and go over paperwork. Or rather, for Cornelia to do so, as she was the one who was deigned to do most of the "lowly tasks" as she had put it. Zero had objected. In very few words he demanded the empress be the only person to deal with any governing affairs. But the rest of the court disagreed, arguing it a waste of time and energy when more large, pressing matters were waiting to be attended to. Nunnally agreed with Cornelia and the court so long if she was to be reviewed of the princess' decisions afterward.

That was most likely why Nunnally had spent most of the day being put neatly out of the way in the garden by her advisors, with zero as her babysitter. But it looked as if things weren't going their way after all. Nunnally was kind of liking this Sect of the Attuned more and more.

She was pushed into her desk and was faced with the five individuals who had so disrupted the proceedings for the day. They were dressed in simple lab coats with dark gloves and high boots, but also each wore green vestments each embellished with unique silver designs and criss-crossing patterns. Nunnally likened them to the waves of light she had seen at the bottom of a swimming pool one sunny day. Back when things were simpler. There were three men and two women. The leader, or so Nunnally assumed, was standing at the front of the group. He was an older man, but not so old that he could no longer stand tall. He seemed very solid for someone his age, but his face betrayed a strange sort of peace that did not match his physique. The only other member of note was the young man who requested the audience in the first place the night before, brother Colin Griggs. He looked both excited and terrified, hiding behind the older man but not ceasing to fidget, bringing all attention to him.

"Alright," Cornelia barked. "You've seen her Majesty. Now you may leave."

"But we've only come for what was rightfully promised to us," the leader stepped forward. He bowed suddenly. "But I forget myself. Where are my manners? I am known as Father Hector Abel, head of the California base division of the Sect of the Attuned." He stepped forward and reached out with his open palm. While both Cornelia and Zero started at the breech of personal space, Nunnally complied to his wish and extended her own hand to him, but Zero quickly ensnared her wrist, now wrapped in his dark glove.

"None can touch the Empress," Cornelia ground out as Nunnally discretely ripped her hand free. "It's for security reasons. We wish not to offend," she added with a smile. And Nunnally realized why father sent her older sister to the battlefield rather than to court. It was not the most reassuring sight.

"And we mean no offense either. It is simply that we are in such a dire state that we beg for her Majesty's aid." Father Abel bowed.

"You should have followed the system's instructions, then perhaps your needs would have been met with more sincerity. Now, unfortunately, we are less inclined to help you now that you've caused such a ruckus."

"Please," Nunnally stopped her sister. "Just let him speak."

"But this is against protocol. It is not fair to others who have been waiting to speak with you long before they have. It's only just we treat them the same as everyone else."

And Nunnally recognized her sister's logic as sound. But, "The system needs to be changed," she argued. "It is not fair to hold one group's minor complaint more important than the dire conflicts of another's just because one requested an audience before the other. I suggest we arrange appointments like we would a triage."

"As you wish," Cornelia bowed. "Now, you may explain why you need our aid."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Father Abel began. He once again stepped forward, even closer to Nunnally. "My apprentice Brother Colin was sent to request an audience with you regarding new buildings for worship for our religion, as you know. And Her Majesty so graciously agreed. However, I'm afraid we did not divulge the whole story to you,"

"Go on," Cornelia said.

"You see, Your Majesty, the Sect of the Attuned is a fairly new religion, and one that is very steeped in the empirical rather than the spiritual, making it a bit of a nuanced practice. So not only are we in need of religious centers for our communities to properly meditate in, but we are also the target of many attacks."

"Wouldn't erecting community centers only create larger targets for your enemies to strike?" Cornelia offered, nunplussed.

"Or it may prove to others that we are recognized and protected by the crown, and they may open their minds to us," Father Abel countered.

Nunnally thought for a moment, taking in both Cornelia and Father Abel's arguments. Cornelia was a war hero. That made her invaluable in wisdom, but only for war wisdom. And the empire had been at war for far too long, in her opinion. Perhaps things just needed a gentler touch.

"How severe are the attacks?" she tested.

"We live in old area 1 slums, which are decrepit at best. There are 300 of us. During the last attack, we lost twenty."

"By who? And why wasn't this reported to the authorities?" Cornelia demanded.

"The authorities nearest us are biased. They wouldn't listen. That's why we came to you, Your Majesty."

"There would have been news of attacks of these magnitudes long before you came here. Things like that do not go unnoticed by the Britannian intelligence.

"We like to keep to ourselves," Father Abel said simply.

Nunnally thought for a moment. "Father Abel how much funding do you require?"

"You can't possibly be believing this tripe, can you, Your Majesty?" Cornelia demanded.

"I don't see why not," Nunnally retorted, offended. Cornelia threw her head up to the ceiling, obviously at the end of her patience.

"'Why not,' she says," she mumbled under her breath. "I'll tell you why not! A group of undocumented people a part of some undocumented religion demand your presence and ask for money. What about that does not strike you as a ploy?"

A voice rang out suddenly. It was Colin, looking confident as he stepped in front of Father Abel.

"And what about the princess' actions strike Your Majesty as a ploy?"

"Excuse me?!" Cornelia raged. Colin withered under the gaze, as most people would, but whether by foolishness or bravery, he continued on despite it.

"I only mean, that Her Majesty should be careful when all of her advisers are imperial occupation veterans."

At that, Cornelia stepped forward.

"Get out!" she demanded, voice booming and ricocheting off the walls. The guards stationed on either side of the door moved with their guns drawn and began to herd the group out.

"Wait!" Nunnally tried to stop them but the chatter was between the guards and the representatives was loud as they squabbled. Soon enough, they were out of the room, and all was silent.

Nunnally angrily turned to her sister.

"I wasn't finished yet, you had no right!"

"I actually did. It was by your decree that I handle the small audience affairs. I only brought you here to placate them enough to speak to me," Cornelia explained.

"But what if they weren't lying? What if they really needed help?"

"Trust me, little sister, they did not. I may have spent most of my time on the war front, but after dealing with your brother, I now know a rat when I see one."

At this, Nunnally was done with the conversation. But she couldn't just leave so all she could do was sit in front of Cornelia with a foolishly dumbfounded expression on her face. Cornelia however didn't give away her thoughts. She wore a mask of indifference and simply tuned on her heel, walking out of the room.

"See to it the Empress takes a nap today." she barked to Zero, and then walked through the door, which closed with a deafening bang. Cornelia's anger immediately washed off as she walked away and she dropped her head in her hands in shame.

Nunnally let out a frustrated scream and slammed her hands down onto her chair.

"Careful. Such behavior is unbecoming of an Empress," Zero advised from behind. She could have slapped him. He was the sole witness to her breakdown the night before and now he chastises her?

"Perhaps I don't want to be an Empress," she shot back, crossing her arms like a toddler.

"You did well, though," he admitted. "You were just and compassionate."

"That doesn't mean I want to be those things," Nunnally tested, suddenly aware that this was the most Zero had ever spoken to her ever. The Zero before, he was quite talkative. There were always marvelous speeches about his great purpose to free the world from the chains of the corrupt and evil Brittannian Empire. And there was always a witty retort saved for the outcry of his enemies. That Zero always called himself a man of action, and yet so much of his influence stemmed from his use of language. The way in which he could bring people into his sway with the perfect choice of words was a large part in how he gathered his army. This new Zero though, her Zero, was often silent, choosing to speak only when absolutely necessary. So it put Nunnally on edge thinking that something about what had just happened made him talk.

"What do you think of them?" she asked him.

"It's not my place to judge," he responded simply.

"It is if I order you to," she retorted.

"Not even you can change the truth," was his cryptic response. Nunnally huffed, and maybe he picked up on that because he added, almost defeated, "I am the worst judge."

"I don't think anybody is a good judge," Nunnally admitted, deflating. "The truth evades us. People hide it behind masks of smiles. Then how can anybody know right from wrong when both are hidden away? It's impossible to lead a peaceful world. Not when I don't know if we even deserve that peace to begin with."

Zero did not have an answer for her like she had hoped. True to his fashion he remained silent for the rest of the day.

* * *

Nunnally awoke tied to a chair as a violent tremor shook the earth below her.

Though this wasn't the first time this had happened to her, her heart flipped and began to beat a fast rhythm as she searched her surroundings. She was located in a small, concrete room, lit only by a lamp hanging from the ceiling. There were no windows, leading her to believe she was underground. A bunker, perhaps? There was another quake and dirt fell from the damp ceiling. Would she be trapped here, buried under the earth? She couldn't think much of it when she spotted a figure lurking in the shadows and her heart stopped.

"Brother Colin?" Nunnally tried. Said man bowed his head and sighed. He wasn't in his nice suit or his lab coat any longer, but in dark pants and a dark long-sleeved shirt. His hair wasn't swept to the side any longer but hung over his dark eyes. Colin dug into his pocket and fished out a communicator, murmuring something into it and then placing it back.

"Where am I?" Nunnally tried again.

"Can't say," Colin shrugged.

"Who are you?"

"You know who we are. We are the Sect of the Attuned," A new voice answered. A door opened, flooding the room in light, blinding her, before the door was closed and closed her in shadow again. Father Abel soon appeared out of those shadows. "But, I still haven't been as forward with you as I would have liked."

"Of course you're not who you said you were," Nunnally sneered.

"Oh, I am, and have always been, Father Abel. Only the lad here has been secretive. You can call him Zephyr."

"Or I can call you traitors," Nunnally retorted. Father Abel laughed at that.

"We are actually liberators. You see, it is true the Sect of the Attuned studies and worships the mind, but it goes so much deeper than that." He began to pace around the small room, circling her chair. "You see, we develop and study the power of kings. Your brother's power."

"Geass!" Nunnally supplied in shock as another tremor shook their room. "How do you know about all of this?"

"The power of Geass has been around since the dawn of history. And though we may not look it, so has our order. We seek to fulfill our goal. With your help, Your Majesty."

"I thought I already gave you what you wanted. What is it now?"

"A peaceful world," Abel answered.

"Don't joke with me! What are you really after? Is it money from ransom, or power?" Nunnally demanded "I should have listened to my sister about you!"

"So it would seem you've given up your dream of a gentler world," Father Abel finished.

"What?" Nunnally was blindsided for a moment. What was he talking about? How did he know that was her one wish? The one she told her brother, hoping that if she folded those one thousand of those silly cranes it would somehow come true. And while she did that he'd gone out and…

"Do you not want a gentler world anymore?" Father Abel reiterated, pulling her from her thoughts.

"I still want that!" she snapped. "I've always wanted that. But it's a lie, the foolish dream of a little girl. There are only two ways this world operates; it's either in a state of stagnancy or chaos. Everything my brother sacrificed for me was for nothing!" she cried.

"Do you want to change that?" Father Abel asked. But Nunnally was not a stupid little girl anymore.

"It depends. What are you going to offer me, and more importantly, what am I going to have to pay?"

"Your acceptance," Father Abel said.

"That's all?" Nunnally questioned, completely unconvinced. There had to be more! There was always more behind the lies!

"We worship the mind and seek our liberation from the chains of society that bind our potential to become what we were always meant to be."

"And what is that?"

"A utopia,"

"Impossible,"

"Only for the weak-minded. But there have been those who refused to be crushed under the world. Strong people, with brilliant, free-thinking minds. People like your brother." Nunnally stopped her struggle against her binds at the mention of her sibling. Father Abel smiled at having got her attention. "Your brother reached for your gentler world but he was alone in his endeavors. Yes he had his advisers and his armies, but he was the only person with his kind of power. He brought the world to a halt. But I wish for time to start again." He turned suddenly from his pacing to face Nunnally once again. "Nunnally vi Brittania, you wish to be worthy of your brother's sacrifice. I can grant your wish, if you grant mine."

"You're acting as if I've already considered your proposal," Nunnally argued.

"Haven't you?" Father Abel countered. He had her there, and Nunnally chose to scowl at him.

Then, yet another tremor shook the room, this time, louder, and more violent. Brother Colin, or Zephyr now, looked wearily around the room.

"If you've thought about it now, then make a decision already. We don't have too much time until the whole calvary crawls up our asses," he complained. So that's what those quakes were. The Britannian forces must have located her by now, and were trying to rescue her!

"It's true." Father Abel nodded.

"You know I could have all of you arrested for this?" Nunnally threatened. Father Abel said nothing to that, but the look on his face explained that he was sure of himself. And maybe she wanted to prove him wrong, just out of spite. But more than anything, she wanted to be worthy of her place in the world that her brother created. "Conflict arises when the strong oppress the weak. Add Geass into the equation and you only create a group of people who will do the same. Why do you think my brother had himself killed in the end?" Nunnally tried one last time, but she already knew her answer.

"Your brother killed himself so that you would take his place as leader of Britannia. I would like to place that same trust in you as well." And that was the answer.

Nunnally looked over to Zephyr, who was peering at her from under the dusky light of the overhead lamp, sequestering the concave curves of his face in darkness while lighting up the rest of his face brightly, especially his dark eyes, which appeared almost red in the light. Beneath the shadow of his neck, below his shirt, peaked out a familiar sigil spread out across his upper chest, one she hadn't caught during her first appraisal of him. One she had seen many times both in her waking moments and in her nightmares.

Nunnally extended her hand to him.

And his to her.

Their hands clasped.

And all became black as she lost consciousness.

TBC


End file.
